Blindess
by Asradiantasthesun
Summary: Love is blindness, I don't want to see/Won't you wrap the night around me?/Oh, my love,/Blindness. * Sydrian after reeducation, kind of a continuation of Clarity and Remedy.


So, this is kind of continuation of Clarity and Remedy. I hope you'll like it, I really do. Please, leave comments. I recomend listening to Love is Blindness by Jack White cause it's a really great song and I think it really suits our favourite partners in crime. Enjoy! :)

* * *

_Love is blind, they say. But I see quite a lot of things._

I see how she carefully cuts vegetables for the dinner and how she immediately sucks the blood when she cuts herself by accident.

I see little crinkles in the corners of her eyes, when she smiles.

I see that she doesn't really likes being photographed, but she loves photographing strangers.

I see how she blushes, when I show her my portrays of her.

I see how she gives food to homeless animals and keeps on checking our fake passports when we drive to the airport and how her hands sweat when we go through the check there.

I see her in the most intimate situations; when she wakes up with messy hair and without any make-up, I see her happy and depressed, confused and satisfied.I know where she likes to be kissed, I know every inch of her body and I see her face even when I sleep.

I see her scars. All of the scars inside and out she was given by the people who called themselves her family. And it makes me angry, _so angry_.

She is the sunlight and, sometimes, the sunlight hidden under the cloud that drowns her, consumes her, makes her give up.

At first, she was so closed up, like at the beginning- just like when I had been just a playboy without a future and she had been a good Alchemist. A long time before she had became my Sydney. But time heals, they say, and maybe they are right, cause she slowly began to open- slowly and it wasn't like that, that I woke up one day and there was her old self next to me. No.

It was hard, you know? Sleeping in the couch, when all I wanted was to lay beside her and chase her demons away. Not being able to kiss her, to hug her, to even touch her, cause she couldn't bear it. But it wasn't to worst thing.

The worst thing was that she wanted these things as badly as I did and it killed her, that we just couldn't have this thing that we had had once upon a time. She tried, cried and apologised and she was broken in half, unable to force her body and mind to behave the way they had used to.

And all I could do was to give her time.

And we started to rebuild us again. We started to smile, to laugh again, to enjoy our life, to remember good things and tame bad and that's how we live now. We started to celebrate every moment, to swim in the pools of the sunlight on the bedroom floor, to get to know each other once more. We started from delicate movements, dancing around each other, slow movements, we started from the beginning. We stared from kissing in the pouring rain and me combing her hair and from buying flowers and sightseeing and admiring to marvelous beauty of this world.

And, just like that, one day we had it all and we realised we never really lost anything and we gained _so much more_.

Today, when I wake up, she is sitting on the bed with her eyes wide open, but not seeing a thing. She is still skinny- so terribly skinny- and her arms are shaking a bit, but she is still, her mouth slightly opened and her mind far, far away from me. She is not responding when I talk to her, nor when I touch her, so I lift her up and carry to bathroom. I make sure that water is in the exact temperature she likes- warm, but not too warm and then I wash her hair, just like she likes it. I dress her up and make her eat something and then I talk to her for hours and hours, until my voice cracks. I tell her about a girl she used to be and the girl she is now, about the strongest girl I've ever now, about the girl who was a goddess in a red dress and about the light that led me home, about the girl I'll never give up . And when I'm unable to speak no more, she blinks slowly and looks at me; really looks at me and says:

_Adrian, thank you._

Just that, just simple thank you, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world, cause there is such a tenderness in her voice and there is a love in every letter.

And then we just move closer and she is in my arms and this is our world; bad and good, happy and sad, broken and complete, because that's who we are now. Both of us. Perfectly imperfect. Imperfectly perfect. Broken statures of greatness.

There is only one true miracle; that we met each other.

Good days and bad days, like a kaleidoscope, dancing their infinite dance and making my life. And Sydney, always Sydney, only Sydney, Sydney who saved me. Sydney, who knows me better than I know myself and Sydney who gave my hope. Sydney, who I'm going to love for the rest of my life.

Maybe love is blind, maybe it is. _But if it is blind, then take my eyes, I don't need them._


End file.
